Rabbit or Duck
by The Lady Avaritia
Summary: Jiraiya's last novel is the true story of the Sannin, a detailed biography of three brilliant shinobi, from Tsunade's get together with down, to Orochimaru's fall from grace, all recorded by a masterful narrator who saw it all. The standard issue romantic tragedyof two dark boys who loved a dark girl who loved someone else entirely. -Gen, Angst, Friendship-


**Hello everyone. Some of you may remember a multi-chapter fic started by me under the title Rabit or Duck. This is it – revamped, spell-checked and completed. My head-cannon about the sannin. Enjoy and leave a review at the bottom.**

i.

_A colorful paperback of another cheap poorly written porn novel. This one doesn't have a disturbing picture on the cover, or a disturbing title that can make teenagers snicker. It's rather simple: _The Delectable Dark by the Great Jiraiya_. It's the last book in the series, published post mortem, and it makes it so much more priceless. _

_Did you buy your own copy, or are you here to borrow mine? Never mind. We can read it together. I will skip the inappropriate bits for you. Unless that's all you're interested in? Oh, oh, sorry, you like the plot too. My apologies, then._

_Let's get started. Sit down, yes, over there on the big leather coach, pour yourself a drink – a cup of rich steaming hot chocolate, laced with barely sensed Metaxa, sweet and thick and suffocating, like blood._

_Are you comfortable? Then let's begin the story of the_ Delectable Dark by The Great Jiraiya.

Preface:

The story I am about to tell is the single most truthful story I have written. All the names are real, and all the people are real too. The story begins in Konoha, back many, many years ago when the Second Ninja War was reality, and people fought with all they had. Actually, I'll set the beginning a few years after the actual start, so as not to bore whoever reads this with details.

Let me introduce you then, to our main setting and our main characters. I hope, with this, I can entrance you, swoon you over, for just a bit, beckon you to the velvety dark that almost swallowed me whole. My dear reader, as you go through… Please judge lightly the choices made by those gifted with beauty and wickedness, who in their youth, believed they could rule the world of mortality.

Sincerely, 

Your Narrator

Chapter One:

It was a dark night, cold indifferent stars scattered over the velvet blue of the summer sky. Konoha had long ago fallen into slumber, the civilians dreaming civilian dreams, while the ninja tossed and turned, minds ridden with nightmares of war, and images of death and murder.

Of course, not all of Konoha was asleep. The ANBU moved, almost one with the darkness, carrying out dark deeds in the dark; the patrols conversed in hushed tones, fighting off the spider webs of sleep and tire.

And of course, the bars. There is a district in Konoha, a wonderful little part of the village, affectionately dubbed "The Wild Night District". It was a wonderful place, riddled with bars, casinos, hotels and nightclubs, that party-goers often joked could rival the Sin City of Rain Country (of course, out of ear shot from the unorthodox Jashinists that occasionally enjoyed the tourism the Hidden Leaf Village had to offer).

On this clear summer night, the Wild Night District was alight and buzzing with life, as shinobi from all positions blazed in from one establishment to another, impatient to shake off the reality of life, and become a face in a crowd of humans as desperate as them.

The busiest, as ever, was _Hopeless_. Over the years from the foundation of Konoha, Hopeless evolved from a dingy little shithole that sold horse urine as sake, into the brightest, most inviting club in the district. It offered a secluded dimly lit area for talks and food, separated from the dance floor, where everyone danced under the sound of blaring music, a VIP room, where few were admitted, a game room that offered pool and black Jack tables and a floor of empty rooms where the patrons could sleep off their hangovers undisturbed.

It is no surprise that this as the most ninja frequented place. I will now skip boring descriptions of what you will find there, and move straight to the VIP zone. Upon entrance, behold your heroes for the duration. The young, the beautiful, the gifted. Tsunade Senju, who was a golden goddess, blazing as brightly as any star, with her beautiful face, and glowing honey brown eyes, her hair, like threads spun of pure gold, hanging down her bronze tanned back. Her lips, plump and colored wine red, and she smiled, her elegant hands forming gestures as she spoke excitedly to her companions. She was young still, her skin unmarred with the lines of worry and sorrow that time would curse her with. She was bright still, and she was unafraid of using what little wickedness she had in her.

Next to her sat a man you could define as ruggedly handsome, a man who glowed with the power of his youth, drunk with his happiness and his joy and smiles. His skin was dark, tanned from hours of training in the harsh unforgiving sun, and his white unruly hair stood a stark contrast. His smile was broad and beautiful in its own right, captivating with the openness of an honest heart. He too, was wicked, but his wickedness tasted more of harmless mischief. This was Jiraiya.

Their third companion sat across from them, sprawled on the leather coach that was hidden half in darkness. He was by far, the most beautiful of the three. He was also the most wicked, and harsh, morally bankrupt in every sense. His skin was paper white, from hours spent reading ancient scrolls of dusty secrets, but under it rippled muscles from rigorous training. His hair fell, long and black, melting in the silk of his shirt. His eyes were hypnotizing, bright and golden, like a snake's penetrating gaze that can see into your soul. His sharp features were schooled in a blank, bored expression, as he occasionally sipped from his glass, the red wine staining his lips bloody. This man was Orochimaru.

His golden eyes racked carelessly the people scattered haphazardly in the VIP zone, searching, peeling off layers of clothes skin and flesh, as he sought… what, he had no idea as well.

'Orochimaru,' Tsunade spoke. By the tone of her voice he guessed she'd called his name a few times already.

'Tsunade?' he mimicked her, raising a thin black eyebrow.

'Were you even listening to me?'

'Of course I was, my dear. Your voice is a delight to my ears,' he smiled his award winning smile, and if Tsunade was anyone else, she would've blushed.

'Jerk. You were spacing out, weren't you?'

'I'm sorry, my dear, I am simply searching for a face beautiful enough to hold my interest.' He directed his gaze at the people again, looking for amusement.

'Are you implying that I'm not beautiful?' She asked playfully, a small smile, specially reserved for her teammate gracing her lips.

'You are… But you are also cruel in your rejection, and you are quick to wound. I prefer a more harmless form of entertainment. Besides, weren't you just explaining all about this delightful man named Dan? I was listening.'

She would've probably given him an answer, if she could. But right then two civilian women stepped closer to the table. They were scantily dressed at all, their make-up heavy and overdone, their hair tortured with various styling devices. Obviously drunk, the high-heeled their way to where Orochimaru was seated.

He sighed wearily. As the three sannin were gaining more and more popularity, it was not uncommon for fan girls and fan boys to disrupt their conversations, a crowd of admirers in their every step. Orochimaru, so far, had the largest fan base, probably because of his looks, and personality.

'O-orochimaru-sama,' one of the women squealed. 'Would you dance with me?'

'You look like a high-class hooker,' he informed her coldly, disinterest marring his handsome face.

'A-and me?' the other woman asked, her excitement somewhat dampened by his cold demeanor.

'You are married. You think I wouldn't notice the line of skin on your finger that is lighter because of your wedding band, but I bet your husband is at home waiting for you, or a ninja, fighting somewhere in Wind Country, while you have him written off here. Why don't you introduce me to the single shy girl at your table instead? She seems like she'll be far more sufficient company than you, considering the fact that she is not drunk out of her mind… Well, what are you waiting for, go away!' he waved his elegant hand in dismissal. The woman he'd insulted first was sobbing.

'That was cruel,' Tsunade scolded, a dark scowl twisting her features.

'I am cruel,' Orochimaru said and shrugged gracefully. 'I'm going to dance.'

With a liquid move he got up and made his way to the floor, his body swaying to the beat of the music. Tsunade's eyes lingered on his retreating back as he moved towards a redheaded girl, put his arms on her hips, and whispered in her ear something that made her blush and squeal.

'Pants this tight should be made illegal,' Jiraiya said, snapping her out of her trance, as she stared at her beautiful teammate dancing slowly and seductively with the random girl.

'He's got really long legs,' she muttered absent-mindedly.

'And a nice ass,' Jiraiya agreed. She eyed him weirdly.

'Well, as an appreciator of the beauty created by God, I have to notice theses things!' he said defensively.

'In any case, his ass is nice. Anyway, I was telling you about this man, Dan. I met him at the mission office the other day, he's a Chuunin and he's really cute…'

That night Tsunade left Hopeless with thoughts of the sweet Chuunin in her mind, Jiraiya left with one of Orochimaru's rejects (the married one), and Orochimaru… he danced with the redhead, he kissed her, he held her in his arms, then he took her home…(_I will now skip this little bit for you, because I feel uncomfortable reading it out loud)_ and in the morning, when she awoke, he was already gone, and only the scent of his expensive cologne remained on her sheets.

This wasn't the first, and far from last, time when Orochimaru took advantage of the women who adored him, and this nameless creature, who is becoming more and more a dim memory, wasn't neither the first, nor last, who fell in love with Orochimaru's allure, and who saw his darkness as something beautiful and seductive.

~A Note from Your Narrator~

Orochimaru, for all we can say about him, was not always this mass of pulsing dark energy and heinous ambition, but the seed was already there, long before the story began, and anyway, I doubt so many would have been seduced by him if not for these exact traits. And his abs.

Chapter 2:

On the next morning, the team Sannin met again at their custom training grounds. Tsunade was hangover, Jiraiya was guilty, and Orochimaru was feeling good.

Their sparring, which had gotten progressively more dangerous and harmful over the yeas, was in full session. Tsunade and Jiraiya had teamed up against Orochimaru, and viciously charged with merciless blows and kicks, which he returned in fashion. His lightning fast movements, and snake-like liquid grace (and his lack of a hangover) made him a rather difficult opponent, but eventually, Tsunade had him down with five broken ribs and a shattered left hipbone. He was glaring at her angrily, and clenching his teeth, as she slipped into medic mode and started repairing the damage her and Jiraiya had caused.

'I have a date with Dan tonight!' she announced cheerfully, glowing with happiness. It immediately grabbed the attention of her two male teammates.

'I saw him after I left, see I went into _Orihime's_ to play at the slot machines, and he was there with a group of friends. He walked me home and then he asked me out. Isn't that great, guys? Guys?'

Jiraiya and Orochimaru were looking at each other, their faces set in stony masks. It was the understanding of two men when it came to a woman they felt for.

'We…' Orochimaru began slowly, a smile seeping on his face like poison.

'Should meet Dan,' Jiraiya finished darkly, his face, for once, not alight with that goofy grin.

'Huh? I don't know. I kind of wanted it to be the two of us. I mean, he's taking me to The Red Lobster. It's going to be kind of… romantic.'

'Oh,' Orochimaru said, completely understanding. 'A romantic first date… we won't intrude.'

Jiraiya opened his mouth to say something but a death glare immediately silenced him.

Later that night Tsunade, clad in classy white dress made of silk was balancing on a pair of 5 inch heeled sandals, holding Dan's arm and smiling at him as they walked towards what was probably the most expensive restaurant in Konoha.

When the waiter lead them inside and towards their table, she froze, and her honey eyes widened.

On one of the table sat none other than her two teammates, who were officially in very deep shit. Orochimaru, dressed in a tailored black suit that complemented his slender build, was talking in hushed tones to a dark beauty, whom Tsunade recognized as Kokoro Hyuga, the heiress of the Hyuga clan. Jiraiya was having an animated discussion with a pretty civilian in a pretty dress.

As if on cue, Orochimaru raised his head from the wine list and looked at her.

'Aren't those your teammates, Tsunade?' Dan asked softly.

'Those are my dead teammates,' she hissed through gritted teeth.

Up to this day, she is still not sure how she and Dan ended up having their first date on Orochimaru's table. He had put enormous effort into seducing Kokoro, his mask in perfect place, and his near-sociopathic tendencies not once revealed as he acted out the perfect gentlemen part. Tsunade could see, in his beautiful captivating eyes, that sinister gleam which meant he had something to win from this. It made her uncomfortable. Jiraiya, on the other hand, was completely himself, sharing jokes, smiling, and generally just warming up the atmosphere.

However, the looks her teammates kept giving Dan made Goosebumps go up her spine.

Of course, on the following day, the two had mysteriously disappeared on a week long mission in Wave Country, and by the time they were back, she just didn't have the heart to be angry at them anymore.

They met at their designated spot again, and instead of the sound beating they were prepared to get, Tsunade launched into a wild explanation of the week they'd missed, going into miniature detail about every single thing Dan had done.

Tsunade had a boyfriend. And it wasn't one of them. Of course they'd never been as foolish as to believe that they would remain Team Hiruzen forever. But somehow…they hadn't expected this. Of course they'd been aware of the notion that Tsunade would eventually settle with one man, but it was all kind of vague, and abstract in the back of their minds.

And now Tsunade was in front of them, with her golden hair falling around her shoulders, and her soft eyes gleaming brightly, and she was practically glowing with happiness, as she told them about Dan, and how perfectly wonderful he was.

But Dan wasn't wonderful. Dan was Dull. And neither Jiraiya nor Orochimaru liked him too much. And they both let him know it in their own way. Orochimaru, with a cold threatening smile, and a raised eyebrow; Jiraiya with a direct verbal confrontation immediately after the not-quite-first date at the Red Lobster.

Abruptly, the blonde kunoichi paused in the middle of a sentence to take a closer look at their hard expressions.

'What?' she demanded 'What is it, you two?'

'I…'Jiraiya rubbed his neck, 'I just… Tsunade-chan, I always have… still do, in fact…lo – like you very much. And I don't like Dan all that much… I don't think he's that good for you, and –'

He was forced to cut off his sentence as Tsunade sent him six feet under with a punch. In the place where he'd stood there was a Jiraiya-shaped hole and his legs were sticking out of it.

Orochimaru smirked.

'I've been itching to do that, you know,' he said.

'Don't avert the subject, you sneaky bastard! I know you want to say something! Do you not like Dan too?'

'Well, Tsunade-chan…It wouldn't really matter, would it? I mean, I'm not the one dating him,' he smiled, not a smirk or a sneer, but an actual smile, and his honey golden eyes filled with bitterness.

'But then again,' he put his hands on her shoulders, his long fingers getting tangled in her hair, 'I respect your choice, even if I don't like him too much. If you're happy…I am.' He gave her a flash of that breathtaking smile again, and leaned down to press his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss.

'You have to go now; you have a date with him, right?'

'Yes...' she said, dazzled. As she walked away she turned around to take another look at the heartbreakingly beautiful man behind her. He didn't notice, his face turned upwards to gaze at the setting sun, and the bloody red autumn leaves basking in the warmth of the last summer rays. As she walked away, she pressed a finger to her forehead where his lips had lingered just a moment too long for the kiss to be considered brotherly.

Jiraiya finally managed to scramble out of the hole. Orochimaru with a strange smile on his face was looking after a departing Tsunade.

'Hey, did I miss something?'

'No…nothing at all.'

~A Not From Your Narrator~

Yes. Yes he missed a lot. If I'm being honest (and I try my hardest to be that) he missed the foundation of the entire story as it formed right then and there.

Chapter 3:

Roughly a week after that Nawaki died a brutal death, his body scattered over the forest floor, pine needles matted with his blood.

Tsunade found herself in Orochimaru's arms, somehow. He held her as she sobbed and wailed, her pearly teeth sinking into his shoulder to silence the howls of agony, as she dug her fingers in his arms, and begged for a miracle to happen to bring her little brother back.

As Orochimaru held her delicately, and ran his long pale fingers through her golden locks he thought, his agile mind coldly calculating the possibilities of human resurrection, of the ability to stop age, and to put a stop to Death's ugly rotting fingers as they grasped for a human soul.

He was returned to reality when he felt that Tsunade was no longer in his arms, and looked up to see her nestled against Dan's chest, her head buried in his neck, and her screams now reduced to pained pathetic whimpers.

Jiraiya observed silently the three, and took note… of Orochimaru's distasteful scowl, at Dan's stern glare, at Tsunade's light hiccups. She hadn't run into his arms…

She'd found comfort with Orochimaru, who had as much feelings in his skinny body as a rock, and with Dan who had less individuality and personality than a rubber shoe sole. She hadn't as much as spared him a look. And in a rare burst of selfishness that he immediately felt guilty for, Jiraiya was angry at the other two, for being her first choice, and at her, for not choosing him.

They had history, after all, years during which he'd been her solid human contact… But now she hadn't come t him. She hadn't even considered him. It surprised him, how much it hurt that she wouldn't seek his comfort. It devalued him as her friend, and he hated that feeling of having failed her, of having been unable to do a thing.

As he watched her, this golden goddess, who'd been dragged though the bottom of the gutter, as he watched this idol on his pedestal of true love, an idealized image of the woman he would marry in the arms of a high-functioning sociopath, and then of a commoner with nothing to offer, Jiraiya could feel a sensation in his chest.

As he stood there, he felt the pull of his fragile human heart, as it beat hard, and harder still, until it broke through his ribs, and white bones stood sticking out of the torn flesh, as his rotten insides pooled at the dirty hospital floor at his feet, and his wretched heart, plopped down last on top of the pile of decay, a charred shriveled and useless thing crawling with white maggots.

That was Jiraiya's first experience with jealousy, and pure unabashed envy at another. It left a disgusting bitter taste in his mouth.

~A Note from Your Narrator~

This feeling of emptiness, and futility would often keep Jiraiya awake at night for years afterwards. I'd know.

_Let's relax, for now, my throat hurts from so much speaking. We will continue later, with the next chapter. I could, of course, lend you the book, but reading it together seems so much more fun, doesn't it, my dear? I know what happens next…if you are impatient, I'll tell you… Well the net chapter is about the beginning of our characters' dark periods – substance abuse, mindless sex, wild parties, avoiding one's duties, being irresponsible, falling apart under the pretence that all is fine… Are you impatient?_

ii.

_Back for more, are you? And there I thought you wouldn't come. You're late, and you made me wait, but never mind that. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable, and brace yourself. I'll read you some more. No, I'll keep skipping the porn bits. Why? Because I can. Where were we? Chapter 3? Oh, we finished that? Well then, on to Chapter 4._

Chapter 4:

It was the miserable beginning of a miserable autumn. It hadn't stopped raining in nearly a week, and the Konoha streets were covered in mud, with small rivers running along the sides. Civilian school still hadn't started, but summer had ended its pitiful existence in a brilliant fiery splash of flesh and blood, and Tsunade felt like it would never be summer again for her.

She had barricaded herself in her apartment, shutters down, doors locked and piled with boxes, and spent her nights and days curled up on her bed, drinking and crying, listening to the endless tapping of raindrops on the rooftops as her half-delirious mind conjured images of a still alive and smiling Nawaki. Dan came occasionally to bring her groceries and alcohol, and it was hard to tell which she was more grateful for. He would stay for a few hours, clean up the place, and then hold his wounded lover in his arms, completely at loss of what to do.

If Tsunade had been more coherent these days, she would've wondered about Jiraiya and Orochimaru and where they were, why they weren't coming. But he mind was preoccupied with relearning the simple task of breathing, as she had to force herself to take each inhale, to remind her lungs to accept and filter the oxygen, to focus on exhaling so that she does it right, to attempt to go through an inhale-exhale-inhale cycle without sobbing… until it stopped being a challenge. It was slow healing and it took time. There in the darkness, curled like a wounded animal, slowly she regained the use of her body, and she returned to her mind. And one night, when breathing had stopped being a challenge, she propped herself up from her fetal position and pressed her dry lips to Dan's. He startled, but his arms quickly tightened their grip on her shoulders. She kissed him again, desperately. Her kisses tasted like high-class liquor, bitter and intoxicating. His kisses were slow and tentative. She attacked, and he surrendered. Her chipped nails dug into his skin, she pressed herself more firmly into his toned chest. (_I'm sorry dear… I really… can't read that to you.)_ There, on a pile of sheets in a nest of grief and rage Tsunade and Dan consummated their relationship for the first time.

But really, what happened to her teammates?

See, dear readers, it's like this:

Jiraiya tried very hard and in vain to forget the bitter taste of jealousy that had seeped into his very core. He went to clubs, and he drunk himself into stupors, and in the early mornings, when the shy dawn broke through, he felt a mild self-loathing satisfaction as Orochimaru scraped him off half-rotten bar floors, moped his brow and held his hair as he vomited his guts out.

~Fun Fact~

There are only two people Orochimaru ever did that for – his teammates. Neither one appreciated it. Neither one ever did it for him. 

And Orochimaru, when he wasn't busy collecting Jiraiya from places, protecting Jiraiya from angry one-night stands and their fathers (Uchiha's were damn scary, but more on that later), and sabotaging his own body by drinking industrial amounts of sake, was also grieving. Tsunade may have lost a brother, but he had lost an entire team, and in his mind that signified his failure as a sensei to both Nawaki and his other two students. He had also had to thread very carefully and avoid the grief-stricken parents of the boy's teammates. Because clearly 'I did all I could.' When you bring somebody their child's corpse is in no way an excuse of why 'all you could' didn't save the child's life. It was during that time when the researches he had been conducting as a form of entertainment become more of a serious interest. The techniques his photographic memory allowed him to memorize were no longer just an impressive toolbox against formidable opponents, but rather a route to reaching farther ahead, taking those necessary steps forth to reach the human dream… of eternity.

The death of people… was something terrible. He had lost his parents, without even remembering them, Tsunade had lost her brother, and Jiraiya had lost his own family… If only… if only he could change that. If only he could find a way… to bring those people back. To give them a second chance, and to give himself a second chance at knowing them. Give people a second chance at fixing old mistakes. To be able to bring back the dead… wouldn't that be wonderful? Furthermore, wouldn't it make Konoha so powerful? A village whose ninja never died? Why then, the Fire Country would easily become the greatest military power. And he himself… immortality. To live forever. To never be touched by time's rough hands or catch a whiff of death's rotten breath. An eternity to perfect oneself, to become the ultimate human being – gifted in knowledge, gifted in the arts, gifted in all one should be gifted, but doesn't have enough time to reach perfection. And that… wouldn't that be perfect? An endless time to learn everything, to gain knowledge, and with time – understanding. Wouldn't that be the achievement of all of humanity's dreams?

Chapter 5:

Tsunade finally exited her self-imposed confinement. The blow of her brother's death had made her duller, somehow, her golden glow dampened by the reality of war. She had grown too used to winning. She had grown too used to being a Sannin.

Winter came violently that year. One day it was still autumn mourning the loss of Summer's love and caresses, and the next day there was three feet of show covering the village, and angry blizzards blowing about. For whatever reason, the only part were the streets were decently cleaned was the Wild Night district.

Coincidentally, on the following day was also the graduation day for the Academy, and a new batch of bright eyed gennin would be released out into the bloody fields where they would die bloody deaths for their country.

That night, sitting on their customary boot in the VIP section of _Hopeless _the Sannin plus boy toys were discussing that. Jiraiya found himself the only one on the table without a date, seeing as Orochimaru was entertaining a beautiful dark eyed man who was coincidentally, a Wave country diplomat. He seemed to be really into Orochimaru's flattery… and his _daringly _open at the chest silk shirt. Through inconspicuous staring and listening in, Jiraiya deduced that A) The guy was at least three years younger than them B) Orochimaru had every intention to get laid tonight C) He would never be able to hear the name "Uchiha" again and not think of "a clan of evil soul-sucking zombies unlashed on the battlefield with the sole purpose of annihilating everything in their path. Konoha has some good shinobi." Orochimaru's reply had been a smooth "And still, the Mist Village produces much more efficient killers. I find myself more interested in the arts of the silent death. In fact poisons uhgfsklbgouer; dsloghrehgbd;hgrihnd losuhegto;eihdnvgidfoh…"

Because this was all Jiraiya ever heard whenever one of his two teammates started discussing their favorite subject – the different ways to make a person's organs shut down on them without physically touching them.

But eventually his attention was picked again as Tsunade, who'd been silent for the better part of the night, spoke up

'Orochimaru… tomorrow's the gennins' graduation. Are you thinking of getting a new team?'

It was a startling question for nearly everyone at the table. The Mist diplomat caught the sudden tension in the air and quickly excused himself to the bathroom.

'I don't think it's… it's a bit too soon for me to…'

'It's okay if you do, though,' Tsunade continued softly. 'Maybe it will be better for you to have… to take care of another team, and to,' she paused painfully, 'to go on missions with them.'

Orochimaru shook his head slowly.

'I'm going to start going on solo missions again. Jiraiya's been planning on getting a team, though, haven't you, Jiraiya?'

'Huh? Yes, yes I've talked to Hiruzen-sensei – I mean, Hokage-sama about it. I'll be assigned Minato Namikaze, Mikoto Nakama and Hikari Nara. I'm really ecstatic about it too. It won't be my first experience as a teacher… but it will be more formal, somehow.'

'At least,' Orochimaru noted with a dismissive wave, 'You won't be leaving us for three years this time… I hope. Here's my date. Have a wonderful night, everyone!'

~Fun Fact~

I did mention I'm skipping a few years from the actual beginning, right? Well to fill you in – a few years before, Jiraiya picked a team of three war orphans and offered to teach them the ninja arts and work on his writing. He was gone from the horizon for three years. Nobody missed him particularly. Orochimaru was temporarily stationed on Hahajima island doing kinjutsu research on behalf of the village. Tsunade was in denial. 

Here's the fun part – two of the three war orphans were on the top of the food chain in the organization Akatsuki which nearly destroyed Konoha. The irony.

Chapter 6:

Orochimaru ended up visiting the academy anyway. What did the lazy gennin say on graduation day? "Well, it's nice to finally meet all of you."

Orochimaru leaned carelessly on the three in the back training ground, hiding his face from the pale winter sun under the thick layer of snow on the three's branches. He contemplated sitting on the swing, but cleaning it from the snow was too much effort, and he was. Fucking. Freezing. Anyway. Through narrowed eyes he regarded the students walking out, already grouped in their teams, and excited to meet their sensei's the following day. He remembered his own graduation at the tender age of six, and how completely unimpressed he had been at the ceremony. Looking back now, he was probably just in shock from excitement.

As he stared dully at the exiting crowd, his acute hearing caught fleetingly a bit of childish conversation

'You are such a weird freak, they didn't even put you in a team with anyone!'

'THAT'S NOT TRUE!' a girl screamed back, obviously on the verge of tears. 'I'm simply so much better than any of you, that's why they didn't put me with you, so you wouldn't slow me down!'

'Yeah, right, sucker. How did you even pass your graduation exam, you weirdo?'

'Leave the freak alone, Satoshi! Her freakishness may contaminate you. Hey look! Isn't that one of the Sannin?'

Orochimaru looked at the midgets – er, children, with narrowed eyes. He was cold, and he had only had four hours of sleep. And his hangover cure was not helping. And he did not like bullies. At all.

'I'm impressed that you now long and complicated words like "contaminate' and 'freak'.' He said with a sickeningly sweet smile. The two boys beamed up at him.

'Now, I recommend you go and apologize to that beautiful young lady. Experience has taught me not to insult aspiring kunoichi. The last time I called a girl "freak" she broke seven of my ribs, both my arms, pierced my lungs and poisoned me. and my sensei sent me on D-rank missions exclusively for a month.'

'But she's not a girl. She's a freak. Down right weird.'

'What are a shinobi's greatest values?'

'Honor, honesty, loyalty.'

'I don't think it's honorable to insult people, do you?'

'But I'm being honest.'

I will not hit a child, Orochimaru thought, I will not hit a child, I will not hit a child, I will not hit a child, I will not –

'What are your names, boys?'

'Satoshi Nakahara.'

'Daichi Kaito.'

'Well, Daichi, Satoshi, I have some pretty wonderful news for you,' He smiled his dashingly handsome smile again, and for some reason it did more to worry the boys than to settle them.

'You are going to spend another wonderful year at the academy, so that you can learn respect, and remember why team spirit is important. My dear,' he turned towards the girl who'd stopped her angry sobbing and was staring up at him in awe, 'What's your name?'

'M-mitarashi Anko, Orochimaru-sama,' she replied quickly, drinking in the side of her idol, who was there, in the flesh, talking to her and smiling a real smile like he'd often done in her dreams.

'Mitarashi Anko? The one who got 300 on the ninjutsu theory test?'

'Hai,' she held her breath.

'You've probably heard… I lost my gennin team back in the autumn. I thought, still think, actually, that I'm not ready to take a new one, however, I must ask you, Mitarashi Anko, how do you feel about becoming my gennin team? It will be a two-men cell consistent of me and you, and I'll convince Hokage-sama to skip the D-rank missions stage? How does it sound to you?'

Say yes, he thought, say yes, little girl, and I'll give you power beyond your wildest dreams. Freak? No, a flower. A diamond in the dust. A genius, he'd heard from Sarutobi. A twisted child, he'd heard from academy teachers. An orphan, just like him.

Breathlessly Anko stared at the handsome man's smiling face. His golden eyes were warm and inviting, and he didn't look like he was making a mean joke.

'I would love to become your student, Orochimaru-sama,' she finally managed to choke out through excitement, and then did the girliest, most embarrassing thing, like, ever. She hugged him. She literally threw herself at him, and wrapped her still chubby arms so hard around his slender waist, she almost knocked him of balance in the snow.

_Well, I think I'll take a break for today. Damn common cold that nothing but tea can cure! It makes me so angry that no one ever discovered a cure for it! It's just a fucking cold! Yes, I'm not getting worked up. Please. I'm just annoyed, is all. How do you like the story so far anyway? Are you excited about what comes next? I know, I know, I promised you darkness and wickedness. They'll come. See how we're getting to the root of Orochimaru's ambition? You will come back tomorrow, right? I am so lonely, these days, I even wish for his company. And please remember to bring that apple cake you promised to make. If you don't, I won't read anymore, and I bet you want to find out what happens. _

iii.

_You've come again! Took you long enough! I was beginning to get bored, you know. I'm sure you've only ever thought of me as well. Or at least the story. _

_It really is a beautiful tale, isn't it? Like the game where the Frog is afraid of the Snake, the Snake is afraid of the Slug, and the Slug is afraid of the Frog. Three objects in an eternal deadlock. Sit down. Have a cup of tea. It's really good, from Rice Country. I begin now._

Chapter 7:

It took Orochimaru approximately three days to get all the paperwork sorted and have Anko move in with him in his uptown three bedroom apartment. Funny to know, he was the only sannin who actually owned his home. Jiraiya was renting a cockroach breeding den in the cheaper and more dangerous part of the village; Tsunade, who technically owned the Senju compound, had moved in with Dan to avoid the ugly face of the ghost of Nawaki that reached to her with bony hands covered in decayed flesh. She couldn't bear to walk the empty halls still ringing with his laughter or the rooms that he'd graced with the brilliance of his smiles, and would much rather share living accommodations with the man she loved, in a small but homey apartment full of life.

Orochimaru, on the other hand, preferred to live alone in his large sterile apartment near the Wild Night District. He had also bought the basement of the building when moving in, and converted it into a small personal laboratory. Really, when the owner saw the number he was being offered, he couldn't say no. Assassination mission pay handsomely, and having several patented poisons with no certain antidote out on the market in the times of war was another small side-earning.

Orochimaru liked living alone, really. He could wake up at ungodly hours, or never go to sleep at all, he didn't need to buy food, which he didn't eat anyway, or apologize about body parts in the fridge; he was free to drag his one-night stands and, to put it crudely, fuck them into oblivion, without being wary of any flat mates. He did like his solitude, especially after he'd grown up in an orphanage full of at least a hundred other war orphans, who were noisy and hungry and aggressive and distrusting of pale boys with a high IQ.

Children were cruel, and will always be (probably why he disliked them so strongly), especially towards things they couldn't understand. And they couldn't get it through their tiny brains that there were other children who were much smarter and better than them. Thus, the bullying he had faced. Thus, the bullying Anko was facing. He _understood_. Ergo, why he was having her move in with him on such short notice.

And so, on a bleary morning at the very beginning of the holiday season, Anko was lead away from the orphanage, under the ill-masked relief pouring from the matron's whole person, and taken into the much more glamorous world of highly-paid ninja. She loved it.

And she loved Orochimaru. It had been so hard, so damn hard, when she was alone at first, and she didn't understand why they hated her, so, so difficult. She worked faster than them, understood things better than them, and her brain always buzzed with information, things she knew, things she'd learned, and everything was so _boring_. The others were so dull, so unbelievably stupid, and the world moved in slow motion as she knew, just knew, what was about to happen, had seen it all in their body language, heard it in the tone of their voice, and nobody understood, nobody saw those things, couldn't they just LOOK? But her sensei… he could se it in her, he understood, oh, he knew! The burden of a genius mind.

He'd been alone for so long, never once having had someone to understand to share, to see what he saw – the world in all its mundane quality, in all its distasteful shades of gray and occasionally bouts of genuine darkness. It sickened him. And finally, he'd found and equal, a match, in the form of a little girl, and he couldn't have been any happier. In hindsight, it had probably been selfish of him to drag her down, but he was back then, and would continue, until his dying day, to be an unfixable egoist who cared deeply about himself. He was burdened, tortured, cursed with a mind unlike that of ordinary people, a genius far surpassing that of others, so much so, sometimes he forgot he was human too. And now finally there was someone who was his equal, and he was not letting this chance go, not when he needed… needed… needed what exactly? Understanding? Relief from the constant pressure of slowing his mind down to match others? He didn't know. All he knew, was that there was a little girl, who was just like him, and he was going to teach her… everything. Share his world with her as he couldn't with anyone else. Share his dream of immortality and power with her and find someone who would understand. Because, surely, she knew what he wanted, and surely, she wanted the same. After all, ambition was the root of success, and surely, someone with a mind so akin to his own, would be feeling the same drive to rise above everyone else, and succeed.

Chapter 8:

And while Orochimaru and Anko were adjusting to life with each other and Anko was rapidly discovering that sometimes her sensei had bouts of immaturity that could rival any spoilt brat's temper tantrums, Jiraiya was trying (and failing) to gain some sort of authoritative grip over his new team, consisting of Nakama Mikoto, Namikaze Minato and Hikari Nara. His grudging respect for Orochimaru only grew, as he realized that the hell he was dealing with had been haunting his teammate for two whole years, and honestly, Orochimaru was an emanation of sheer human willpower, for not having skinned the brats alive. (Something Jiraiya often felt very inclined to do.)

And then, quickly, his thoughts turned a far darker direction. Orochimaru had lost his team. Jiraiya had been there the first rough weeks after Nawaki's death, when everything was still raw and hurting, and Orochimaru's golden eyes were sunken in bruise-like rings, and his skin was like old paper, and his lips were a constant thin line of silent anger, and guilt, and complete denial of emotions.

'You don't have to feel guilty,' Jiraiya had said, awkwardly, and pressed a large palm to Orochimaru's sharp shoulder.

'I don't feel guilty,' was the icy reply. 'I am a high-functioning sociopath. By definition, beings like me are characterized by not possessing a conscience and the ability to feel.'

'We both know that's bullshit, Orochimaru. You miss them, and you feel sorry.'

'I failed as a sensei, Jiraiya. I. Never. Fail,' he hissed quietly behind clenched teeth, his eyes narrowed resentfully at the shot glass as if was at fault for all his problems.

'It's human to fall sometimes,' Jiraiya said quietly.

'I am not human. I am a shinobi. And there's a world of difference in that. You are a shinobi too, Jiraiya, First and foremost that. Don't ever forget it.'

Jiraiya sighed, resignedly.

'Fine. Be like that, if you want. You know where to find me if you still need to talk,' he got up from his seat, knowing that he'd make no progress with his teammate when he was sulking like that.

'Of course I know. You'll be with Tsunade, trying to push Dan off her, fighting like you're two dogs in a deadlock for territory.' The words were cold and cruel, dripping like acid from Orochimaru's tongue, burning into Jiraiya's skin, way past his bones, blossoming in a horrible, horrible wand, gaping, gnawing, eating away at his flesh and at his heart.

'You shouldn't have said that,' He whispered, before leaving.

It had been months ago. Orochimaru had apologized, of course, in his unique Orochimaru way, without ever admitting that he was in the wrong, and things had continued just as normal. But somehow, Jiraiya could feel that the snake master was slowly and deliberately pulling away from him.

However, he was never one to dwell on dark thoughts for far too long… especially since he'd somehow ended up tied to a tree trunk with three annoying brats in front of him, grinning and demanding, as they did, that he take them to a treat as a reward for successfully ambushing him.

And so, they ended up in the Uchiha district, in the Uchiha Senbei shop, where the world's best senbei was supposedly sold.

'So, why are we here again?' Hikari grumbled. 'I don't even like senbei. Man, what a drag.'

'Minato was too busy inhaling his food to answer,' so Mikoto dutifully hit her teammate upside the head.

'It was my turn to choose a place to eat,' she snapped.

'You're only here 'cause you wanna ogle Fugaku Uchiha shirtless while he's training. Troublesome woman.'

'What was that, Nara?' Mikoto growled, lighting bolts coming out of her eyes. 'Oh, Kami-sama, here he comes, shove it!' She pushed Minato off his seat so she could get a good look at the Uchiha heir strolling carelessly towards his home. He wasn't exactly shirtless, but his black high-collared shirt with the Uchiha crest on the back clung tightly to his muscled torso, leaving Mikoto's fangirlish mind running wild. Even in the bristling snow of Konoha's brutal winter he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. He was a god. And one day, oh, yeah, one day, she'd show him who's boss. How dare he call her a weak girl! He'd grovel at her feet and lavish her with presents and beg her to have his babies. Humph!

Jiraiya was observing his students' antics, and was at least glad that he was teaching a girl that wasn't fangirling him or, Kami-sama forbid, Orochimaru. He'd heard it was full of these in this year's graduates.

'Ne, ne, ne, Jiraiya - senti!' Minato waved excitedly in front of his teacher's face, 'Let's get going already! Here's the bill!'

Jiraiya took a glimpse at it and promptly passed out. Hikari Nara tut-tutted.

'How troublesome.'

Chapter 9:

Six hours to midnight

New Year's Eve is the single most disappointing night of the whole year. You expect it to end epically, to carry you away, beautiful and perfect and full of new things, but it doesn't. it's just a prelude to the Parade of Shame the following day, when the party-goers trail home, still half-drunk, after the initial high of the euphoria has worn off, just tired gray people going to their tired gray homes, when the light of the fireworks wasn't there to give them color.

However, there was something distinctly different about this New Year, something tangible, almost magical, mixed with the taste of winter and cinnamon and ginger bread. It finally looked like Konoha might win the war. The three Sannin were in the village, stronger and more unbeatable than ever, the bloodline clans stood proud tall, the Hokage was a pillar of security, and the ninja had returned home from the battlefield, covered in blood, screaming in nightmares, but more optimistic than ever.

And so, the New Year festivities in that miserable, beaten winter, when the streets were covered in blood and mud, and ninja lay dying in the hospital and on the battlefield with no one to help them, that year, when the war had raised its ugly head, growling at the world, Konoha, the village of sun lit parks and suffocating shadows, the village built on fake smiles, and pretty lies of peace and pretenses of morality… this village had the most lavish, most bright and wild celebration of the end of the year anyone had seen, with festivities bright enough to rival those at the daimyo's court, where life continued its well-known and routine pattern of fake pleasantries and exquisite clothing even at times of war.

And while such bitter musings occupied Orochimaru and Jiraiya's minds, the same couldn't be said on their students.

Anko was stuffing herself full of multicolored dango in all colors of the rainbow, and Jiraiya's team had mysteriously disappeared form sight at the first alcohol-selling establishment. He would've probably noticed if he wasn't too busy pointing out to his date the numerous acts of bravery (pure stupidity) he had taken part in.

**And so, left unsupervised, **team Jiraiya quickly slipped into some bad behavior. Hikari Nara, lazy genius that he was quickly escaped his euphoric teammates, mingling with the brightly colored crowd of strangers in festive kimonos, brushing occasionally with a tipsy man, or a perfumed woman, or a scarred shinobi, as he snuck to the Hokage Monument, where he proceeded to lay down on the soft grass, exposed after the snow had melted a few days ago, and rested his head on his hands, looking up a the indigo sky that would soon be lit by fireworks.

Minato bought Mikoto a beer out of pure gentlemanly disposition, but as soon as he spotted the strawberry red of one Uzumaki Kushiha's hair he excused himself and slipped out of the booth, chasing the academy schoolgirl and calling her name like a lovesick fool.

Mikoto Nakama was left all alone with her, now lukewarm, beer, and a small bag of sugar-coated plums she'd bought from a sweets stand. Her dark eyes followed mutely the celebrations outside. People, more than she'd ever seen on one street at the same time, were walking together in groups, laughing and talking. Women in party clothes, men with sleeked back hair and wide smiles. The whole village pulsed with the beat of loud and up-beat party music, and the sound of laughter that had long ago been forgotten rang in the air like a melody of sheer human willpower.

And Mikoto sat all alone. Oh, when she saw Minato and Hikari next they were both going to get it for leaving her alone like that! She was going to beat them both up well and good, so they would remember themselves. leaving a lady all alone like that, humph! Mongrels! Barbarians! Raised by wolves! Absolutely no concept of how a gentleman was supposed to act! No knowledge of proper etiquette at all. Not at all like her Fugaku, who was well-trained n the art of courting a lady, and giving her proper treatment. If only he would just use those freaky eyes of his to see that they were good for each other, and just let her have his babies already and holy flying pink cows, was that an Uchiha crest she just saw passing?

Quickly Mikoto left the alcohol booth and ran out on the street. Indeed a tall man in a formal silk kimono with the Uchiha crest on its back was strolling carelessly down the street. Was it possible that he was her knight in shining armor? She ran after him, ducking through a group of civilian girls to catch up with his long strides. Yep, that was definitely him, the god of all ninja incarnated in human flesh! She would never mistake his walk and the way he slightly leant on his left foot a bit more, since his right one had been broken a few times on a few places during an infiltration mission in Kumo. He stopped and in her excitement she actually ran into him. He turned around startled.

'Apologies. Are you alright?' he asked in his soft baritone, and she felt her brain melting in a gooey substance at the base of her scull. 'Oh. It's just you.' he murmured flatly.

'What do you mean it's just me,' she snapped, a vein twitching on her forehead. 'You practically shoved a girl into the ground and that's all you have to say?'

'You ran into me,' he said simply. 'I would assume that if you are incapable of seeing what is in front of you, you should reconsider your ninja career, for a ninja is required to see not only the obvious but also what is underneath the underneath of it.'

'Well, from I see you mother didn't beat those damn clan manners into your thick scull hard enough, because that's no way to talk to a lady, you jerk.'

'I see no lady around me, right now. Just a foolish kid playing gennin, a little girl. This world will chew you up and spit you out, so you better go run along, pest.'

'How dare you,' she growled, 'how dare you, you arrogant self-centered Uchiha-bastard? You have no idea, no idea, how much training, how much work I've put into becoming a strong kunoichi just so I can make chauvinistic pigs like you shut the fuck up. I am not some civilian little girl you can dismiss like I'm nothing. I've worked, and I've worked hard to catch up with you, to surpass you! I have admired you for so long, and you can't just blatantly disregard that! You can't just blatantly undermine me for being a girl and for not being from a clan! You can't!'

She was steaming with anger, ugly red blots forming on her fair skin as the blood rushed to her face. She was contemplating dragging him into the nearby dark alley and slamming his face in to a wall a good couple of hundred times in order to prove her point. Except that would break his nose and ruin his Greek god profile, and she didn't want that.

Fugaku looked down at her, being a good twenty centimeters taller than her.

'Silly girl,' he said softly, placing a big warm hand on the top of her head. 'I am not undermining you. I _worry_ about you.'

Mikoto was continuing her rant.

'And if you think you can… wait, what? You… worry about me?'

'Of course. Anyone in his right mind would. Beautiful girls wither fast in the shinobi world. I… I guess I don't want you to get touched by the wickedness of it all?'

'You'll find out I'm pretty wicked myself…. Wait, you think I'm beautiful.'

Fugaku did not, did not, blush, and suggesting otherwise was nothing short of suicidal. The lights just fell that way. He did not blush, damn it! He did, however, avert his gaze, and let a huge goofy grin spread across his face.

'Yeah… I guess… I guess I do.'

'You…' Mikoto stared at him wide-eyed, at loss of words. 'You imbecile, why didn't you just say so!'

She slapped him across the face just as the first fireworks lit up the sky in the soft green of Konoha's face and the Hokage wished everyone a happy New Year from the top of his tower. Then she threw herself at him, getting on her tiptoes and wrapping her thin arms around his neck, pressing her lips against his in a clumsy, sloppy kiss.

He put his arms around her thin waist to steady her, and spun them both around.

'So are we uh, a couple now?'

That earned him another slap and a kiss.

New Year's Eve wasn't so disappointing after all.

All around them people cheered and clapped and cried happily, almost as if they were celebrating the happiness of the couple. As he leaned down towards this… tiny, fragile teenage girl who thought herself so strong and invincible and grown-up, he felt unfamiliar warmth spread in his chest like a cozy, homey fire that made his heart seem so much more alive and welcoming. And as the tinge of her slap faded and he lost himself in the taste of plums and honey and untried things, Fugaku knew… he fell too hard.

All around them the bright sparks of extinguished fireworks fell to the ground like a golden rain.

~x~

Dan had proposed. Dan had actually proposed to her, for real! She felt like a giggly academy girl.

They had sneaked from the New Years' celebrations. Dan had taken her to the top of the Hokage Monument, where they could observe the fireworks undisturbed. The sharp winter winds were blowing away the clouds that slowly floated like puffy whispers of cigar smoke, and cleared away the indigo sky. There wasn't even a moon, to mar the perfection of the velvet night. Down below the streets bustled with music and lights and people, happy to forget, at least for a while, that they were at wartime. The magic of the New Year was almost tangible in the air, as the sound of laughter and talking, that had been gone from the Konoha streets for so long, could be heard again ringing in the air, filling it in, making everything come alive. 'Konoha was not a place for the dead, not a place for ghosts,' Tsunade thought. How wrong she was, and how wrong she would be proven, years later, as a distraught Jiraiya told her of one boy, one boy, who lived in a house of the dead, in a district of ghosts, and dreamt of strangling an illusion.

But this was later, and that was then, when she had nestled her head against Dan's broad chest, content to listen to his heartbeat.

'Tsunade,' he had said softly, 'I have something to tell you.'

'Mhhmmm?' she hummed contently, half-asleep, lulled by the strong beats of a warm human heart, the pulsing beat of the city below, and buzz of one-too many champagne glasses.

Suddenly, she was no longer in his arms, but instead, propped up, and he was on his knees before her. A small velvet box clutched in his nervously trembling hands.

' Will you,' he gulped, 'will you, Tsunade Senju, marry me?'

Just as he got the words out, the fireworks exploded, painting the sky in the brightest, most joyous colors, and the New Year came, sweeping with the beauty and hope that maybe this year won't be as bad as the last.

~x~

People yelled out greetings, hugs were given, even to strangers. Some were crying, happy and relieved and excited. Orochimaru kissed Kokoro Hyuga under the shadow of a tall building, her small body trapped against a concrete wall as he ravished her mouth with his tongue, and then latched onto her neck, whispering seductive murmurs against the pallor of her warm skin; Jiraiya shared a sloppy kiss with newly turned Chuunin Yamamoto Inaou, Mikoto slapped Fugaku and then kissed him, happy tears running down her face, while a certain Uzumaki Kushina dealt a deadly blow to Minato Namikaze's head, for daring call her a schoolgirl because she still hadn't graduated the academy.

Hikari Nara had fallen asleep in some bushed, when he was promptly awoken by the screeching voice of some woman yelling:

'Oh, yes, oh Kami, Dan yes, yes, a million times yes!'

And thus, came the New Year in Konoha.

Chapter 10

'You WHAT?' Jiraiya yelled loudly.

'Orochimaru hissed in pain and pressed a palm against his forehead.

'Yell again,' he whispered, 'I dare you.'

Jiraiya smartly chose to shut up. It was the morning after New Year, also known as Hangover Day.

'So,' Jiraiya repeated quietly for his teammate's sake, 'you and Dan are what now?'

'Engaged, engaged, engaged,' Tsunade giggled in a sing song voice, spinning around. She had healed her own headache, and was in perfect condition.'

Orochimaru groaned lightly.

'Stop spinning,' he grumbled tiredly and rubbed his eyes.

With a shrug Tsunade planted herself on one of his leather coaches.

'What are you doing in my apartment anyway?' he asked irritably.

Jiraiya and Tsunade looked at each other and shrugged.

'You have a nice kitchen, and actual coffee,' she said.

'Right. I forgot that where you live the "kitchen" is consistent of a sink-and-stove combo in the right corner of the living room, since Dan can't afford an actual kitchen because he doesn't take assassination mission because he has _morals_, and that, on top of that, your fiancée,' he spat the word viciously, 'doesn't drink coffee because green tea is much healthier. Bullcrap.'

'Well, if you have enough energy to be a sour bastard, you obviously don't need me to heal you,' she snapped angrily.

'I just wanted to share my good news with you, since you're my teammate, and since you're the closest I have to family, but you obviously could care less. Go overdose on whatever it is that you're filtering for the market now, for all I care.'

'Guys, guys,' Jiraiya broke tersely. 'We're all tired and irritable from whatever we did last night,' he gave a forced perverted chuckle, 'and I'm sure Orochimaru meant nothing by his comment. He's just sour because his head hurts. Right?'

'Right,' Orochimaru said softly, his voice once again under perfect control, steel wrapped in silk. 'I apologize. I was too harsh, and I said what should not have been said. I had no right to speak like that about Dan. Please accept my apologies.' His voice was somewhat detached, unfeeling, as if he didn't mean the words. Then again, when had he ever meant the things he said?

'Furthermore, I congratulate you on your happy announcement. I am sure you will be very happy together.' The official clipped tome, used in diplomatic missions, did not suit their dynamics, did not suit their history, but both Tsunade and Jiraiya just wanted to leave the small hissy fit behind, and so gracefully accepted the apology, without commenting on it.

~x~

Orochimaru was balancing on the railing of his balcony, which overlooked a busy street. He lay straight-backed on the narrow wet stone, one hand behind his head, while he looked emptily at the sky. It seemed as if he'd discovered a new way to dull his boredom a little, and set his mind calm. As everyone dealing with dangerous substances, he often tested them on himself – painkillers, poisons, antidotes, he always made sure to nick himself and ensure the usefulness of the substance.

He'd been in the lab in the basement, running some last minute tests on a new painkiller requested by the hospital, his mind running a hundred miles per hour with ways he could improve, pointing all his failings out, as he scanned the formulas, the process of formation… Finally came the last part, where he carelessly jabbed a needle in his forearm, where the thin blue veins were visible like a spider web under the porcelain skin, making him look cracked and broken.

And the calm lulling emptiness that befell him could not compare to anything. Not when his mind went silent, and for once he could hear his thoughts for one thing at one time, and he was capable of just focusing, and…

And he was here now, laying fifteen stories above the ground, as the wind blew about, and the air smelled of blizzards and winter, and he kept his eyes focused in the watered tired sky, and he was calm, like he'd never been before, a sort of eerie dulling of the senses that even the industrial amounts of alcohol he consumed with Tsunade couldn't give him.

'Sensei, sensei!' He didn't move as he heard Anko return from her grocery shopping trip three hours late, and smelling of dango.

She padded over to the balcony, pushing the door open.

'Sensei!'

'Anko-chan?'

'I am back.'

'So I see.'

'What are you doing?'

'Enjoying the sky,' he sent her a crooked half-smile.

'You've had a fight with Jiraiya-sama and Tsunade-sama, where she said something that set you off, so you set her off, so she insulted you, and even though you took the blame and apologized you're still sore about it,' she shot at him.

Any other person would assume she'd eavesdropped. Orochimaru knew for a fact that her statements were the result of simple logical deductions.

He sighed deeply and painfully, the empty white static slowly ebbing from his mind.

'Yes,' he whispered tiredly.

'Do you love them, then? If they hurt you so much with just words?'

'I do not love, Anko-chan. I am sociopath, and sociopaths are incapable of feeling emotion.'

'They can have shallow semblances of feelings. Do you at least care about them?'

Orochimaru turned around to peer at her.

'Caring,' he said slowly, softly, almost as if it was paining him to get the words out, 'is not an advantage. And I … I am always at advantage.'

_Enough for now, I think. Enough for now. I get tired, these days. Damn, I miss my young age! Now, what do you say to that, huh? The story's unfolding, the plot thickens. Soon you'll see them running all over the place doing unspeakable things to each other and everyone else. I should know. But you've got to go now. Remember to come back later! Hey… Damn it, she left._

iv.

_So you are here finally? I thought I'd have to send someone to fetch you already! It's been what? A week now? I'm sure you've been impatient for an update on what's happening, but I told you, you have to come visit me if you want me to read. So, let's get rolling, eh, brat?_

Chapter 11

With a heavy sigh Sarutobi reviwed the latest files on Tsunade. The reports were… disconcerting. It seemed as if… she was softening, and losing her edge. Ever since the announcement of her engagement to Dan, she had began changing, slowly but surely.

Before she'd met the young jounin, she had been brilliant – the perfect kunoichi, absolutely ruthless, ready to kill and follow orders without question, a sharpened weapon to wielded in battle.

It seemed as if her idealistic fiancée was affecting her warrior mindset, driving his ideas into her pretty head, feeding her morals… This could not be allowed to continue.

It was okay for someone like Dan to be this naïve, still, but not for someone like Tsunade. Not when he needed her to be strong and powerful, and merciless. This had to be stopped. It just had to. it could not be allowed to continue. He would try to talk to her about it, of course, but he knew that she knew anything he would have to say, and had a response to it. There was only one way to deal with this, and it ached in his heart, but he had no choice,

Not when she had refused the fifth A-rank assassination in a month, not when she was slowly pushing her battlefield duties in exchange for the hospital.

He couldn't afford to lose one of his best fighters to petty civilian ideas of honor. There was no honor in being a ninja! Only blood and the satisfaction of defending your home! It should be enough, it should suffice, and any distraction, any swaying from the past should be annihilated.

He loved them, with Kami as his witness, he loved his children – those three brilliant snarky geniuses, he loved them as he would love his own flesh and blood… But he was not their sensei anymore. He was the Hokage, and as such, he was not allowed to love. He was only allowed to use them to the village's best. It couldn't be helped.

He had almost lost Orochimaru to the stupid notion of a family-like team… the explosion in that warehouse had put him right back on track as the sociopath prodigy he needed to be. Of course, it was just an unfortunate accident that Team Orochimaru had been sent on a C-rank mission that had suddenly turned into a high B, and that the supply warehouse they were supposed to ransack had blown up over the gennin while their sensei fought of enemy nin. Three gennin were a small price to pay to get Orochimaru back in all his ruthless glory… though if this new fancy foolishness with Anko continued much longer and distracted him…

No. Orochimaru was better than that. He wouldn't disappoint. Better focus on Tsunade, and make sure she got back on track as well.

He sighed again, feeling old, and opened the mission register, signaling to an ANBU.

~x~

'An A-rank ambush mission, Hokage-sama?' Dan asked in polite wonder.

'Yes, Dan-kun. You will be dispatched after the target, and Tsunade-hime and her team will follow at a safe distance to provide assistance if such is needed. You are to retrieve both the target and the information and return at once!'

'Hai, Hokage-sama.'

Dan was not qualified for an A-rank mission, jounin, or not. He would fail, as was Hiruzen's intent. So unfortunate… one of Konoha's loyal soldiers falling down, but it was a necessary sacrifice. He loved them. He loved all his children, each and every son and daughter of the village, pieces of his flesh, but sometimes… sometimes sacrifices needed to be made. And this was one of them.

~x~

The silence hung cold and heavy in the air. The damp grey walls offered little comfort and the ugly worn-out green couches were more like monstrous torture devices than furniture. Of course, that could be just the fatigue, and anger, and sadness talking, and the general sense of gloom.

Whatever the reason, Orochimaru wasn't going to damage his spine any further on the couch/torture device. With an almost liquid movement he got up and started pacing the waiting room.

They hadn't allowed neither him, nor Jiraiya to go and see Tsunade. And he wanted to see her so badly. He needed to see her.

He began pacing, his sandals tapping dully on the cracked terracotta floor. As he passed a half-dead plant, he made a mental note to remind the Sandaime that the hospital was in a devastating condition.

'Stop doing that,' Jiraiya called from where he was sprawled on one of the leather armchairs that were just as ugly and uncomfortable as the couches, with their stuffing sticking from cracks in the leather. How his white-haired teammate had managed to twist himself into a remotely comfortable position was beyond the snake-sannin. Even he couldn't alter his bone structure that much.

'Why won't they let me see her?' the pale man demanded angrily.

'Doctor's orders,' Jiraiya smiled a little sheepishly. 'I want to see her too, okay? I mean, Dan just died and she's gonna need us, but let's give the medics a little breathing space to fix her up, huh?'

'I know, I know…,' Orochimaru sighed impatiently, brushing Jiraiya's attempts at comfort away with a graceful wave of his hand. When he had walked in the hospital, wet with rain and blood, and collapsed Tsunade in his hands, it had been quite attention-grabbing, and a panicked nurse had immediately called Jiraiya, which naturally brought his team to the news, who in turn alerted Anko. Right now the four children were asleep in the staff room, where Mikoto's mother, Nurse Nakama had lead them.

'She was so desperate. He was obviously dead, and she kept trying to bring him back…in all honesty, I hate him.'

'Dan? You can't hate someone for dying!'

'Yes, but I can hate him for hurting her and making her cry,' Orochimaru hissed.

'I can hate him for that too,' Jiraiya agreed solemnly. 'I never did like him anyway.'

'Neither did I,' Orochimaru snorted.

'A bit too dull,' Jiraiya continued. 'I always thought it would be one of us, you know…'

He paused for a moment.

'I always thought it would be you,' he added a little bitterly. 'Tall dark and handsome,' he laughed, and Orochimaru laughed too, mirthlessly. 'I mean,' Jiraiya continued, 'you are all mysterious and seductive, and suave, and you have that… darkness that surrounds you…chicks dig that kind of thing…as you can see.'

A pretty enough blonde nurse came towards them. It was obvious that she'd just fixed her hair and make-up. She had a plastic cup of cheap coffee from the machine in one hand.

'Would you like some, Orochimaru-sama? I thought it would be good, since you're probably tired…' she trailed off uncertainly, and blushed, looking down.

'New lipstick?' he asked, raising an eyebrow. 'When you passed ten minutes ago you weren;t wearing any.

'I-ah- refreshed it a little,' she blinked nevously. 'Coffee?'

'Than you very much,' Orochimaru said rather coldly, 'Perhaps you would like to bring my friend there one too?' he arched an eyebrow.

The nurse cast Jiraiya a quick glance.

'Of course, of course,' she hurried away.

'I'm tired of getting your cast-offs,' the toad sage complained.

'You have enough fan girls of your own,' his snake comrade replied levelly.

'Most of them are teenagers!' Jiraiya exclaimed.

'Has it ever stopped you? It's not my fault that mature women prefer me over you. In fact, I should say that it's very much your fault for being so childish. Real women just don't 'dig' that.'

'Orochimaru-sama,' another nurse, an aging, tall and bony woman that looked tired and bored, and dusty like the rest of the place, called.

He turned around sharply.

'Yes?'

'She wants to see you now.' Jiraiya immediately shot up.

'Only Orochimaru-sama, I am afraid, Jiraiya-sama,' she said in a grave anf final tone.

Jiraiya shot a confused look in his teammate's direction, but he was already walking down the corridor towards Tsunade's room. His narrow hips were swaying rhythmically with every step he took, in a way that made Jiraiya want to just reach and grab him by the waist. It was a result of one too many seduction missions Orochiamru had been sent on. He couldn't help himself anymore. Subtle flirt came as naturally as breathing.

~x~

Tsunade was pale, and there were rings under her eyes. She seemed old, for some reason, old and very tired. And so, so pale. Compared to her skin, the sheets looked grey. She was almost as pale as him.

'Orochimaru,' she whispered. Traitorous tears were slowly making their way out of the corners of her eyes.

He edged closer to the bed and put a hand on her shoulder.

'I know… I'm sorry.'

She cracked an eye open and smiled sadly.

'What for?'

'If I'd been there earlier…''

'no… no… I'm sorry.'

'Tsunade' he caught her chin between his long spidery fingers and made her look him in the eye.

'This is in no way your fault. You did your best, but you team was delayed…you couldn't have saved him…'

'No… I'll be sorry about that too. Just not now. I don't want to think about that now. I'm apologizing to you…I'll ask you for something selfish.'

'Anything, if it will help…anything.'

'You haven't even heard me yet…'

'It doesn't matter… you know that there is very little I can refuse to you.'

'I want you to kiss me… and then…hold me…and… I just… I know that I want too much but…but I need this. I need to know that I'm real and that I exist and wouldn't just melt away in the dark…'

he looked at her, for a moment, his face empty of all emotion.

'I know this is wrong,' she continued, 'and I know that…'

'Tsunade do you love me?' he interrupted sharply.

'What?' she asked startled.

'D you love me? Just answer, please…'

'You know how good a friend you are to me…'

'Tsunade!'

'No, Orochimaru. I don't love you. Not like that.'

'I know. So then, you are not staining his memory. If you do that with me, with someone you don't love, then it doesn't matter because you still love him, and probably always will…' he trailed off, a broken smile etching itself on his face. It looked more like a grimace of pain than anything.

'Jiraiya must never know,' she said softly.

'No,' Orochimaru agreed. 'Because this would cut him, it would hurt him, he wouldn't understand. But I do. I understand. I'm not judging you.'

'I just want… I want to give my soul wings and let it fly away from me like a bird and never, ever come back, so I would never ever have to hurt again,' she whispered brokenly.

'I know… I know…'

he kissed her on the lips softly, gently. His fingertips danced across her skin. Color returned to her cheeks.

He walked out of the room an hour later, fully dressed, looking as every bit as cold and unemotional as before.

'She's sleeping,' he told Jiraiya. 'She's very, very sad, and very tired.'

Somehow he thought Jiraiya understood.

But it was in no way an insult to Dan's name. after all, Tsunade had never loved Orochimaru.

_I think… I think, how about… enough for today. Enough._

v.

Age is a strange thing, don't you think? Seems like wine's the only thing to get better with time. My hip has been killing me lately. Heads up, now, are you listening? It's seems like we've reached chapter, THE LAST.

It was one of those days in the middle of summer, when even the sun seemed lazy and tired. White puffy clouds were dragging without a hint of enthusiasm over the washed out azure sky, and all citizens of Konoha who didn't have anything important to do were barricaded in their homes, in an attempt to banish the crushing heat.

Even though there was no wind in the still air, which hung like poisonous smog over the village, the smell of death and decay from the battlefields was still tangible, and one could almost taste the flavors of various stages of decay. The select few unfortunate gennin teams who were burdened with the task of returning the dead bodies to the morgue, and the several morgues-in-working, which had been set up due to the sheer amount of dead soldiers, were cursing the Hokage, blessed be his wisdom, and his advisors, blessed be their wisdom as well, to the lowest pits of hell.

The ANBU patrolling the village were sweating profusely under their gear, and small rivulets of sweat came from beneath the cool porcelain masks, which, in the heat of the day had become an unbearable torture device.

The Hokage and his advisors had set camp in the Academy yard, under the shade of a giant tree, while the air conditioning in the Hokage Tower was being fixed. Every single year, since the reign of the First Hokage, once summer came, the air conditioning just died, and nothing could bring it back to life until well into August.

The children, sleepy and feeling as if their young brains were baked in their sculls, were dozing over their Military Strategy textbooks while their teachers, irritable and not any less hot and grumpy, droned about the Will of Fire and great ancestors.

Jiraiya had, for the sake of his sanity in the brain-stoning heat, found refuge in an air-conditioned bar well off the beat track. It was almost entirely empty save for a few suspicious subjects who probably had a WANTED poster, but Jiraiya was too lazy to check. He was slumped over the sticky bar top, nursing a beer whose pleasant lukewarm splashing was supposed to pass for 'yes, sir, ice-cold, yes, only the best quality, yes' and which Orochimaru would have regarded with a raised eyebrow, a sneer and a muttered 'Deer-piss'.

And when thinking of Orochimaru, where was he? He had never taken well to the extreme temperatures of Konoha weather. He passionately hated winter's arctic cold, and detested the murderous heat of summer, which meant he was probably holed up in his expensive air-conditioned apartment. Lucky bastard. Ever since Orochimaru had developed SS-16 and put it out on the poison market (which thrived on the spoils of war), he had a steady side income aside from all the solo missions he took. The _Scorpion Sting_, as Orochimaru had lovingly dubbed it, was soon to be overshadowed by a brand new development – ED-34, or _Ebony Decay_, which supposedly, once ingested, would make the victim start rotting from the inside out. Jiraiya, if he cared any for poisons, would've bothered to listen to the specifics, but he firmly held the belief that only a coward would poison their enemy instead of facing them in a fair fight. Still, he had to admit that Tsunade and Orochimaru's delve into the art of poisons had, perhaps, saved Konoha a good few thousand losses.

Jiraiya hadn't seen his snake-wielding teammate in over three days. This, for him and Tsunade, was always a cause of worry. Orochimaru's mind, which worked on levels that both his teammates had given up on trying to understand, was often times too preoccupied, and he forgot the most basic of things. Sleeping and eating were beneath him. So, for all their disagreements, Tsunade and Jiraiya had decided unanimously that if neither had seen their teammate for more than two days, they would go and check on him.

However, Tsunade was on a mission in Suna. Jiraiya sighed unhappily, and tossed a few bills on the countertop, feeling that, perhaps, this was the most overpriced mammalian excrements he had ever seen. The short walk towards the apartment building where Orochimaru dwelled proved to be nothing short of torturous, as it included moving in a straight line through the dusty street, and breathing the air, which tasted like low quality cotton. His teammate inhabited a concrete and glass monstrosity, several stories higher than what was usual for Konoha. He owned the entire last floor, and the vast basement of the building, and had turned the latter into a fully equipped laboratory.

Jiraiya nodded to the doorman upon entrance, and descended down the stone steps. He pushed the heavy iron doors, and was assaulted by the welcome cold of the underground and the unpleasant stench of still air, mold, and chemical fumes. Just as expected, Orochimaru was in the main area, studying a guinea pig as it writhed and squealed in agony. His bright golden eyes were fixed intently on the silver stopwatch, held loosely between his long nimble fingers. Jiraiya knew that if he stood in the doorway just waiting to be noticed, he might as well just put up camp there and prepare to wait for a few days. Orochimaru was obsessive when it came to his researches.

With a click the stopwatch snapped shut, and the pale man hummed in what could either be satisfaction or displeasure.

'Ninety eight minutes,' he murmured, his voice sounding like snakes slithering on silk, 'It's still not fast enough.'

Jiraiya coughed. Orochimaru turned around to face him almost immediately. There were violet circles under his sunken honey eyes, and his skin had turned the color of melted candle wax.

He looked as if he was about to say something biting, no doubt a careless remark on Jiraiya's IQ and the IQ of a regular chimpanzee, but before he could get any words out, he lost his balance, and doubled over, hand flying around his middle, and eyes shut tightly. With his free hand he gripped the edge of the table, his breathing suddenly going ragged and pained. Jiraiya didn't waste any time getting to him.

'Maru!' He was immediately at his friend's side. Gently he wrapped his arms around Orochimaru's slender body, and lowered him to the floor.

'Nothing to worry about,' the pale man forced out, 'just hunger pangs.'

'Some pangs. When was the last time you ate?'

Orochimaru frowned, trying to remember.

'Monday… I think?' ha said uncertainly.

'He thinks,' Jiraiya growled angrily, 'Behold, the genius thinks! He can come up with twenty ways to kill you before introducing himself, but oh, when it comes down to survival in domestic conditions! He thinks, I tell you! Do you have any idea which day of the week we are today? It's Thursday! Thursday! I swear I don't know why I even try. I should just leave you here… Do you even make an effort?'

As he grumbled, Jiraiya had managed to help Orochimaru get to his feet, and was supporting him.

'We're going, right now, to Ichiraku's to get some food into you, am I understood? He thinks! I swear…'

Orochimaru's chuckle turned into a groan of pain, and his grip tightened on Jiraiya's arm. The toad sage kept his hands on his friend's thin waist, feeling the protruding hipbones. Orochimaru had always been much more slender compared to him, his body made for speed and agility, instead of raw power like Jiraiya.

They made progress at snail pace on their way to the ramen place, and by the time Jiraiya deposited him on a high barstool, Orochimaru was moving on sheer force of will.

Jiraiya ordered his teammate a portion of the light veggie delight, and looked worriedly as Orochimaru consumed it. Well, consume is too mild a word. He practically inhaled it. One moment, there was the steaming bowl, then Jiraiya blinked, and when he opened his eyes the bowl was empty, and Orochimaru was ordering seconds. Jiraiya had never seem anyone eat this fast. Orochimaru didn't like eating in front of people, and rarely shared mealtimes with his team. When he did, he usually ordered dango and munched on it for the whole time. And now… now there was a small tower of empty dishes growing dangerously tall in front of him.

He was consuming ridiculous amounts of food…

Jiraiya eyes his thin frame. Seriously, where did he store all that? With a please sigh his friend set the last dish on the bar top.

'Right then, Jiraiya,' he said cheerfully with a content smile, 'I think I'll go get some desert.'

He still has place for desert? Jiraiya wondered.

'Would you like to come with me? It's my treat, since you were so kind as to treat me here.'

Now, Jiraiya remembered no such thing, but at the expectant look in the shopkeeper's eyes he reluctantly pulled his wallet out and with almost heart-wrenching agony tore the last vestiges of his last mission pay and handed them to that avaricious vulture, who'd robbed him off of… Well, never mind. At least Orochimaru wasn't doubling over in pain any more.

With a mournful sigh and one last look at hi retreating money Jiraiya slid out of the booth and followed his teammate into the still hot air of the Konoha summer, hoping, as he did so, that whatever Maru had in mind for desert would be sold in a place with air condition. And possibly a cute waitress.

~x~

It was a dark and stormy night. I know it's cliché but it's exactly what it was. The three illustrious young ninja were in the capital of the Rice country. It's a neutral territory, as you know, and the capital is called the Sin City for a reason. That place has more brothels, bars and casinos in the same place than the entire Fire Country! They were there as an escort for an important Jashinist who wanted to discuss building a Jashin temple in the city with the Lady Daimyo. Well, that's what she had claimed anyway, when she had requested the mission from the Hokage. That woman was all, but the religious old lady she pretended to be. The Jashin faith has two different groups of believers. Those who believe that true closeness to their god can be achieved only through human sacrifice, and those, who believe that to please their god they have to enjoy the gift of immortality he has bestowed upon them to its fullest, and pray a lot. Those fractions, like all religious fractions who believe in the same god are always at each other's throats. Never mind. Can you guess which part of the faith our client believed in?

That's right. The painful one.

Jashinists aren't beyond killing people for money. It still counts as a sacrifice, if you pray while doing it. And that lady was a hired professional with the mission of ending the Three Sannin. She almost ended Orochimaru, I should tell you.

This whole ordeal happened some time after Tsunade's lover, Dan got his insides splattered all over a wood floor. Orochimaru would swear that he'd almost cheered when he saw the man die. Tsunade was out of it on that mission. Really, really out of it. She looked like a shadow. Her eyes were hollow and empty, and there were rings under them that looked like shadows. Her skin was like ashes, and she walked a little slumped, like she was hurting. Jiraiya wasn't much better. He was all sad and put out for her, his heart wrenching in his chest as the ugly white maggots of petty jealousy gnawed at it. Orochimaru, tall and handsome and with a razor mind, seemed to be the only one with his wits gathered. If he wasn't so nearly socipathic, you'd have heard of the sannin only in the history textbooks, in the index of deceased fallen heroes.

They were walking, just before the gates of the Sin City. Such magnificent gates! Pure gleaming gold in the shape of dragons wrapped around the door frame, and giant panels of blood red wood engraved with mystical creatures of all sizes and shapes. On the very top of the gates form copper and gold was the motto of the city, and the motto of the Lady Daimyo – _Sin is merely the most graceful of compliments._

People came and go. The rich in their silk and velvet, and the poor, in rags, desperate skeletal creatures hoping to gain a little something from the City of Pleasures.

The elderly client had requested a break, so one was taken. Tsunade was leaning on a tree staring dully at the people passing. Jiraiya was flat on his stomach, attempting to peek under the long kimonos and dresses on the women. She went for him first. She wore a kimono with wide sleeves, and she produced a sword from one of them. She went to slice his head off. Orochimaru managed to kick him away into a tree. She made a swing to the pale man's left, to go for Tsunade. Tsunade…she hadn't noticed anything. She just stood there, eyes on the road, deaf and numb. Orochimaru, he yelled out her name. Time slowed to a crawl. The teammate, the bad teammate, he had all the time in the world to jump in front of her and unsheathe Kusanagi, to cut the hit off.

The Jashinist went at him again. She almost chopped off his left arm at the wrist, Once she got the blood on her sword, she seemed oddly…gleeful. Then she started drawing that symbol on the ground with her foot. The Jashin symbol, you know, the one. A triangle inside a circle. Orochimaru prepared to attack her with one of his beloved shadow snakes, was going to incapitate her somehow, and then behead her. Try killing somebody when your body can't move because your head is fifteen feet away from it. The snake wrapped around her sword arm and bit a huge chunk of her shoulder. Orochimaru went down on his knees, his honey eyes going wide with pain. There was blood sipping though his sleeve. That woman, the assassin… she smiled. Rain was beating on them so hard, it felt like they could drown. And she was bloody, and she was smiling, like she knew some joke that he opponents, beautiful and wicked as they were, weren't in on. Jiraiya was unconscious. Orochimaru had pretty much given on Tsunade. And the Jashinist, She took her sword and stabbed herself. And while she did that, Tsunade, out of nowhere pushed her out of the circle. The assassin missed her own heart, thereby missing Orochimaru.

Tsunade ripped the head off the vicious woman with her bare hands. Orochimaru lay on the muddy ground, with blood soaking my clothes, his long silky hair stainedin the rain and his white face quickly draining of its little color. All he could think was 'Damn, I liked that kimono!'

some days later in one of the better hotels in the city he woke up to the sound of Jiraiya making friends with one of the servant girls in the other room. His thin lips were dry, and his chest hurt, and he was looking at the ceiling with little cherubs painted on it, and his mind was, for once, blissfully empty. He simply thought about nothing. Jiraiya came by a little later, wrapped in nothing but a thin white sheet, and explained that Tsunade had healed him, then they'd carried him to the hotel. Jiraiya hadn't seen her since. Yes, he was worried, yes, he'd looked for her, and now all they could do was just wait. Orochimaru dressed. Orochimaru went down, and found the dirtiest, most sinkholish place in the entire city, with the cheapest, worst alcohol, and ugliest women, and got himself hammered with something that should have passed for sake but didn't. His hangover the other morning was a work of art, and so was the nameless woman he'd woken next to. The kind of art that makes you want to run out the fire escape to your immediate death, because it's so horrendously painful. He returned to the hotel afterwards. Jiraiya was making friends very quickly, while his handsome teammate took it as a personal goal to go through all the rundown bars in the city, and consume way more alcohol than it was good for anyone's liver. Four days later Tsunade surfaced form one casino, and she looked worse than ever. She needed money because she'd lost all she had. Orochimaru gave her his part of the mission pay. She disappeared again. The shattered remnants of her team waited for two weeks, and when she didn't show up, Orochimaru asked Jiraiya to prepare for taking their leave. He was in a mad romance with a stripper. Orochimaru left alone.

It was years until they saw each other again. It was cold, or maybe it was warm and it hurt in many strange ways when Jiraiya begged and begged his teammate to stay. The other man, oddly like a marble sculoture, beautiful and unresponsive, turned away from him. He went to the Sin City, and spent there about two months. He'd never gambled, drank and slept around as much as he did then. It had been a dark period, so to speak. When he'd played to lose, had wanted to lose with all his heart. money, identity, the clothes on his back, feelings, memories… he'd wanted to lose himself.

He never lost a single game. he gambled desperately, mindlessly. He always won. He wanted to throw it all away, at that time, and never managed to. he understood Tsunade, now more than ever. I even saw her. She was practically in rags. They got drunk. They woke up in the same bed, and they might have had sex, but neither remembered.

He felt no connection to her anymore.

She was asleep on the bed when he'd left. That night Orochimaru achieved the brightest of successes, the most bitter of triumphs, the most dazzling of darkest victories.

He stole another body for the first time. He was young man, probably a mercenary off duty. He was strong, and youthful, barely eighteen, and Orochimaru was already old and tired and his liver was shutting down on him. He performed the jutsu with no preparation. A part of him secretly hoped it wouldn't work and he would die. It worked.

Joy and pride swept over him, glided him off his feet, was he happy? Should he be? He'd made it and what now, Death? He laughed in the face of eternity.

~x~

_My dearest friend,_

_I believe I have lost my taste for the world as it is._

_The dark is sweet and beckoning, and it doesn't judge. The dark is constant, gentle, and comforting, and one can never help one self but be tempted to fall into the abyss. _

_Some say that those who fall need salvation, that they become lost, and the dark consumes them and makes them evil, and if this is so, then I want to be consumed by the dark too. _

_I want to be as bad, as I can get, and I want that to be known. I want to fall into corruption, until even I am incapable of living with the things I've done. _

_I want to push, and push, until there is nothing left to break, and then I can dive into a free fall with no one to pull me back, and let the dark take me, so I would never have to feel again. _

_You will, perhaps, not understand that need to destroy myself, in fact I'm sure you don't, but it doesn't matter if you do. You've already seen me doing it Konoha, and you know by now that there is little to nothing I wouldn't do to feed the monster that is my own self-loathing. _

_I am angry and bitter, and hateful, and there is only so much I can keep within me. Here in a Ame I met Sasori, and he is a creature after my own heart, crafted out of perfect malice, and wicked anger, and his tongue is sharp and quick like a katana blade. I think I have fallen in love with his beauty and wit. I think he has fallen in love with the ebony decay of my soul. I will let him break me, and I will push him and away, and hurt him to my best ability, and if I fail to push him away, then it must mean I have found somebody who has reached lower than I can ever hope to. _

_I will soon leave this place, and I will deliver a final blow, that I will write to you about at a later point. For now, I must leave, for the dark is an insatiable creature that demands to be fed on a nightly basis, and I need to taste decadence on my tongue once more,_

_You remember, I trust, those delightful weeks in Sin City when we were submerged in the beauty of carnal desire, and woke up from our intoxication nearly three weeks later, with portions of out memory missing?_

_I think, my friend, that I have developed a taste for self-destruction._

_Yours eternally, _

_Orochimaru._

~x~

This is how the story ends, two dark boys who loved one dark girl, the young, the beautiful and the wicked.

We could, I suppose, add more to it – a letter correspondence over the first two years of Orochimaru's exile, between him and Jiraiya, a list of their lovers, maybe recount a few choice encounters with Tsunade, maybe even do a short recap of their last meeting as a team…

Why would we? We all know how this story ends anyway.

The boy who loves her most wins, outlives the boy who doesn't love her quite enough, dies a hero, and the other one grapples for table crumbs.

~x~

End Note:

This story, the story of how Jiraiya loved Tsunade who loved Dan, who died so then she loved Orochimaru, except not quite, and then Orochimaru fell in love with power and there was absolutely nothing Jiraiya could do about it - this is not my story to tell, or at least, not in the way it has been told here. The previous pages, were sent to me, by one man, and one man only – Orochimaru himself.

He sent me many pages, over the years – copies of my own novels with his exquisitely artful penmanship filling the margins with never ending nit-picky criticism, and long letters that he never expected me to reply to. Wherever I was, he was always there before me, just lie darkness is always there before light. I have, of course, long ago outgrown the foolish pretense that I had ever been better than him in anything, and better than him as a man.

Orochimaru, hated as he was, even by you, my dear reader, was a great man, perhaps, with a little initiative, he could've become a good one. The pages you read were the last pages he ever sent to me, our very own story, narrated by him.

And it ends with this little final note from him, a final note from your masterful narrator:  
I believe I have lost my taste for the world as it is. I think, my friend, I am going to die soon. 

_Enough. Enough now. I am getting too old for this. God knows they both had it coming in the end anyway. Am I right, or am I right, Sakura?_


End file.
